


The Keeping It Real Collection

by widgenstain



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dubious Consent, F/M, Ficlet Collection, First Time, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Not Beta Read, Poor Charles, Premature Ejaculation, Underage Sex, me trying to english
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 06:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3681606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/pseuds/widgenstain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smut ficlet collection that follows a bingo card's call to put the realistic back into the porn. </p>
<p>These are my attempts.<br/><b>Chapter 1:</b> Charles/Erik awkward early-stage relationship with lots of laughter in bed.<br/><b>Chapter2:</b> How bb!Chalres lost his virginity to a lady.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's](http://widgenstain.tumblr.com/post/114340835912/moonygarou-for-anyone-who-is-interested-in#notes) the offending bingo card. The whole thing is a bit self-indulgent since it gives me a reason to write weird and awkward porn but I hope some of you will like it too.

Charles’ smile was one of the first things Erik noticed about him. So bright and warm, it lit up the whole library cafeteria. He can’t look away when Charles smiles, it draws him in and lets him marble at how a curmudgeon like him got someone this delightful to agree to go on a date. 

Whatever it was, it worked, a date became two, then three; soft kisses at the bus station turned into wild make-out sessions and heated, awkward groping in the alley below Erik’s window. Tonight started with a movie Erik has seen a million times, and Charles giving the best reactions to his favourite scenes. It felt only natural to reward him with kisses for his excellent taste in cheesy 90s classics. They missed the last third at least, but this was so much better. Kissing Charles, holding his warm weight near, poking and pinching his sides so he would snort into the kisses and tickle him back. They wrestled on the couch for a short while, only to come to the conclusion that Erik’s shabby couch was not suited for this kind of behaviour.

Erik’s bed, however, was. Charles followed him, rumpled, flushed and so obviously aroused Erik’s body tingled with a weird sense of pride. He caused this. This beautiful man with the cheeky grin wants him. And now, now he’s here. In Erik’s arms, in Erik’s (thank G-d, relatively freshly made) bed.

They kiss, more kisses, Erik could spend the rest of his life being kissed like that. Fervently, as if Charles poured his whole being into it, a little bit of teeth and yes, a lot of spit that tastes like spaghetti and Charles. They get out of their clothes somehow. Charles sniggers when Erik pulls off his socks for him

 

“Can’t have those.”

 

“No, in fact you can’t. I promise you, your feet won’t get cold.” 

 

and the perfect smile widens. If making-out with Charles clothed feels good it’s about a hundred times better naked. Erik can’t really tell what they’re doing, it’s a mix between uncoordinated thrusting against each other and trying to get as much of his body’s surface to touch Charles’, but it’s not as if he really has to know. What matters is that his nerve-endings are on fire whenever they touch and he’s wound around Charles’ strong, compact body and his perfect faded-after-shave fresh-sweat smell. He has his face buried in the crook of the long pale neck, sucking, licking breathing him in, and flexes his buttocks into the stumpy paws grabbing at them. 

 

“Erik? Erik I need to…” 

 

Charles is spread out under him; his eyes are huge and hungry as he looks up and the lips are wet, parted and obscenely red. He takes Erik’s right hand in his and guides it down, his eyes rolling back a little when Erik closes his finger around his erection and the smile blooms again. It’s dry and Erik isn’t used to foreskins but there is lube in the nightstand he’s very willing to learn. He’s a fast learner apparently, because the noises he wrings out of Charles are some of the hottest sounds he’s ever heard. 

 

“Yess…,”  
when he twists his palm over the tip and then Charles laughs. It’s a quickly erupting chuckle, deep from his chest. His closed eyes pop open and he looks at Erik with (almost) innocent wonder and appraisal. 

 

“Good…” 

 

He pushes himself in the circle of Erik’s fingers, his hands stroking Erik’s chest and shoulders and every time Erik does something clever, a bright smile shoots across his shiny lips. 

 

“So g-good.” 

 

Erik dips in and kisses the sounds out of his mouth, sucks in the little half-moans greedily as if they were a rare delicacy that would go to waste if he didn’t act quickly. 

 

But then: they are. 

 

Erik remembers his ex, the pale blue eyes so much colder than Charles’, and his words. ‘Don’t smile.’ ‘What are you laughing at?’ ‘Stop laughing’.

 

Meanwhile Charles groans and pulls Erik in closer. He tries to work his hips harder but there isn’t enough leverage so he pants,

 

“Faster, please,”

 

and Erik complies. He can’t take his eyes off him, the way he smiles, so open and unguarded, as if he was experiencing true bliss; bliss that comes from Erik’s hands. 

 

“Is this alright?”

 

Charles laughs again, a happy exhale “Ye-es, perfect” and Erik can’t but mirror him. Something sings in Erik’s chest; it’s ridiculous, it’s just sex, a part of his brain tells him but it’s rapidly drowned out by the thumps of his heart which suddenly seems to sit so much higher up in his ribcage than usual. 

 

Charles hangs on to his shoulders, laughs, gasps and moans while Erik dopily smiles along, realising deep down that he has just fallen in love.


	2. Charles' Dilemma Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the First Time (imperfect) square. Not the most realistic premise, I know, but I tried to get the physical sensations and the emotions right. :)

Charles loses his virginity to Kelly, his stepbrother’s 19-year old personal tennis coach and on/off girlfriend. When it happens it’s off again, she’s furious at Cain and Charles is there to comfort her. He’s always liked her, she smiles at him when he passes the court, talks to him like he’s any other person and Cain doesn’t hassle him as much as usual when she’s around. Whatever possessed her to get with Cain, more even, have deeper feelings for the brute, is beyond him. But as they say in Charles’ favourite comedy: Nobody is perfect. Besides, Charles has only just turned 15, it wouldn’t matter if her main interests included taxidermy and praying to Xenu. She’s a tall, blonde Californian goddess with tanned skin and smooth, endless legs who _likes_ him. 

Charles has kissed girls before, two to be precise, both at his school and it was nice but nothing special. They were as inexperienced and helpless as him.

Kelly, however, is a grown-up with loads and loads of experience. Too much for her age and Charles’ gift catches some darkness lingering in her mind but it’s easily forgotten when she asks him:

 

“Will you come with me?” 

 

Charles hasn’t done much other than bring her some tea and tissues when he found her crying on the porch, maybe he told her that she deserved better than Cain, which was the absolute, agenda-free truth but she hugged him, kissed his cheek and told him that he was too sweet.

Now they’re in the closed-for-the-winter pool house, she’s kissing him fiercely, sitting on his lap and he doesn’t know where to put his hands. Their teeth clash a lot and their noses are smooshed together. Charles feels a bit like an apnoea diver whenever he manages to gasp for breath. It’s uncomfortable and she’s heavy, heavier than him, but again: she’s in his lap, warm and moving and his body reacts eagerly even with the armrest of the sofa digging in his side. She pulls his sweaty hand to her open blouse, to her left breast and it’s bigger than his palm. So soft and plump. He squeezes and squishes it, he’s sure it’s too hard, Oh God, this can’t be good for her… but she just moans softly and begins to unbutton his shirt. 

 

“Here?”

 

It’s the only thing Charles can stammer as she mouths her way down his slim chest. 

 

“Yes.” She looks up and seems to think on it though.

 

“Get on the floor.” 

 

There are lamb skins spread out on the floor. They’re more comfortable than the sofa but Charles would like something more familiar, like his bed.

She doesn’t immediately join him but walks over to a drawer in the back. There are condoms in it and Charles gets a flash of Kelly and Cain fucking in the exact same spot he’s in right now a month ago. ‘This is wrong’ he wants to say, they shouldn’t be doing this - she doesn’t want him, she’s trying to get back at Cain - but she returns and starts to work on his trousers. No one has ever put their hand there and Charles’ protest dies in the grasp of slender fingers and the smell of sun-lotion on warm skin.

Kelly is doing most of the work, Charles just lies on his back with his hands raised in a useless, incapacitated gesture. He’s a beetle a voice in his head tells him. A small, ugly, red-faced beetle that has turned over and can’t right himself. It’s an odd time to think of Kafka but he can’t help it. Evertything is done to him. She rubs herself against him, kisses him and urges his hand between her legs. She’s wet and Charles groans as his fingers slip into her. He’s seen this a million times in porn and it looks just as unreal now. Despite his confusion and doubt, his body is still very much interested and it takes his breath away how ridiculously good it feels when she touches him. Charles has tried out condoms before, there is a whole package of his favourite brand upstairs in the main house. The one Kelly pulls over him is tight and numbs his feeling more than any others he experimented with. Which is a good thing because when she sinks down on him Charles can only cough at the shock of the wet, tight heat engulfing him. 

 

“Oof, that’s big.” 

 

It’s a compliment but it doesn’t register as such. Charles only stares slack-jawed as she begins to move. His hands find her slim hips somehow, but it’s more him trying to hold onto something than participation. She’s still heavy, the pressure on his groin is awkward and unpleasant, but the visual sweeps any discomfort out of his system. There is a beautiful woman riding him. Her eyes closed, mouth open and her body with the big, jiggling breasts hunched over him. The soft wet sounds as she moves, Charles’ own pants and, Oh God, the drag of her warm body on him. Whatever effect the condom had before, it’s gone now. Charles feels everything. Not just on a physical level. Her anger, frustration and growing lust emphasise his desperation. He wants to help, wants to make this better for her, but he’s utterly useless. He tries to move his hips too, not sure if he should get out or deeper in but his weak legs find no grip on the floor. Spread and pinned there’s nothing left for him to do but take the sensations inflicted on him. And they’re overwhelming.

The sharp twist of her hips are nothing like what he would do with his right hand, but it doesn’t matter. He’s in someone else, he’s in Kelly. Her hot body sucks him in, such an alien feeling yet so perfect. She slams herself down so hard it hurts but Charles’ groin draws tight anyway. It hasn’t been more than 2 maybe three minutes but he can’t hold it back. He convulses in a quick and noiseless huff as he comes inside of her. It’s intense, so much more intense than when he’s jerking off and he needs a few deep breaths before he can open his eyes. Kelly has stopped moving. He’s still sheathed inside of her but the moderate enjoyment she has given off the last moments has been replaced by ice-cold… guilt?

 

_He’s just a boy. What the fuck. He just came, he’s a boy, he’s FIFTEEN what the fuck is wrong with you?!_

 

Charles wants to say ‘no’, but his lips won’t work when she quickly and painfully gets off him. ‘No don’t go.’ but all he can do is lie there and stare at her with his dick flagging and his trousers shoved down to his ankles. 

 

“I’m sorry, Charles!” 

 

She grabs a tissue from the coffee table and wipes herself down before she slips back in her pants and skirt. 

 

“Don’t… don’t be”

 

“We shouldn’t have done this, I’m so sorry.” 

 

She staggers out fast and closes the door behind her with a bang. Charles still lies there, slowly deflating , the condom hangs on slimy and grotesquely. It will take him weeks to process what has just happened.

For now he tries to collect himself. He uses a tissue too, but wishes for nothing more than a warm shower. He’s suddenly cold, it’s chilly in the unused house, and he can’t bear to think how Kelly is doing. For a terrible second the thought that he might have tricked her into this crosses his mind. What if his powers…? No, he shakes his head. That’s not what happened.

When he’s dressed again he slowly walks up the hill to the main house. It’s cold, spring is not strong enough yet. Charles is too distracted by his scrambled thoughts to notice the luxury cars at the door and only realises that Kurt’s friends are here when he walks by the salon. He still feels Kelly’s mouth on him, her breath, her smell. He’s sure that others can smell it too, the dried saliva and juices of her pussy on him. That everyone can see what has happened by one look at his flushed face. In his fantasies this always felt a lot better. Triumphant even. Instead it’s like his shrivelled dignity is exposed to everyone who looks upon him. 

“Oi, Charles! Where are you going? Linus’ here, he wants to talk to you.”

Kurt’s voice is slurred as he leans over one of the settees. Linus Storbakker is the CEO of a big financial corporation. He always looks at Charles as if he wants to beat him. Kurt delights in it. As if hate for the boy who annoyingly stands between him and a ton of easy money is a perfect bonding reason. Charles’ gift however tells him that there are quite a few other things than beating Storebakker would like to do to Charles’ body. Violent and atrocious things he’ sure Kurt would not approve of. Charles does not want to face him in the condition he’s in.

“I was on my way to the kitchen.” he lies.

Linus must not imagine him doing anything in his bed. Not even if it’s only napping. 

 

“Since when are you interested in cooking?” 

 

“Not cooking…”

 

But Kurt already laughs dirtily and his attention is returned to the glass of scotch in front of him.

 

“’S woman’s work. Of course the little faggot likes it.”

 

Linus laughs along and Charles can’t get to his room faster. Inside he takes another few deep breaths before he locks the door twice. The water in the tub of his en suite is scalding when slips into it and the rumble hides the sounds of his discomfited tears.


End file.
